There was a riot in Seattle last night. Well. A mini-riot. In the wake of the May Day labor and immigration reform march, a group of “anti-capitalist” anarchists wearing black showed up in a shopping/tourism hub (really a small neighborhood that serves as a mall) and started breaking shit. The most serious injuries sustained were reportedly a bruise on a cop’s leg caused by someone throwing a rock at him, as well as a woman who got a few cuts when someone threw something through her car’s window as she drove past.

The Seattle Times published a pretty hilarious/cringe-inducing account about it, focusing on the comparatively small group of people who completely misunderstood the purpose of the May Day march not because they’re especially stupid, but rather because they’re embarrassingly self-involved. According to the paper, the group marched into the mall-ish neighborhood chanting “let’s go shopping, let’s go shopping” and then promptly lost their sense of direction (because as a participant noted, the problem with anarchy is that no one’s supposed to be a leader) and discussed going over to “mess with the cops.”

Sigh.

Seattle anarchists, you need to get your shit together.

You smashed Sun Liquor’s window because…why? They overcharge for drinks? Well, fine, but so do most of the bars in this city. Big deal. Or maybe you don’t really care that they overcharge for drinks, you just want to cause damage. Which would mean that you have no real problem with capitalism, you just can’t stand to sit still for one whole night because it’s so much more fun to ruin someone else’s day. And now some of them are demanding investigation into the police force’s use of tear gas and concussion grenades, which proves my theory about so-called anarchists:

It’s all fun and games until the anarchy’s happening to you.

Anarchy sounds like a great idea to young punks and old idiots because who doesn’t like the idea of no rules? But without rules there’s no law, and without law there’s no legal recourse, and without legal recourse there’s no one to help you when some aggro motherfucker bashes your face in with a baton. Or steals your car. Or barges into your house, says “Oi, I live here now” (because that’s how anarchists still talk in my mind), and kicks you out into the street.

You can’t choose which laws you’ll ignore and which ones will protect you. You shouldn’t ruin an otherwise peaceful day of legitimate political concern with your fuckery. You really shouldn’t decide to “mess with the cops,” especially after they’ve given you zero provocation aside from standing there, which by the way is not actually a crime, although smashing in windows and assaulting others most certainly are, and the only one surprised by that is you.

Don’t you have anything better to do? Like learn shit, or maybe participate in the political process instead of smashing a few dozen beer cans over your head and deciding to make a statement about your idiocy? The fuck’s wrong with you, anyway?

There’s no purpose. You don’t have a message. You’re not a revolutionary, you’re just an asshole.